Magic in the Name
by All This Hullabaloo
Summary: Peasant. Servant. Abomination. Creature. Nobody. Friend. Lorna. Sister. Covenmate. Elsie. Wanderer. Lover. Homewrecker. Nothing anyone called her made any difference, it never mattered. Nothing could change her until she was granted the one title that could rattle the very core of Lorna's universe; Vampire. Cullens will appear soon. (Part 1 in my apparent Homewrecker Collection)
1. Beginning

It is not the place of a woman to go against the actions of a man. Growing up, I was taught this by not only my parents, but by every authority figure around. I was a woman and therefore lesser than a man.  
This fact shaped many events of my life.

It shaped the role I played in my family as the youngest daughter of three children. My brother always being worth the most to my parents, my sister being above me for simply having been born earlier. And when the Devil's dark hand crept over our country to take my mother and father by the plague, my life was shaped again by my womanhood. My brother inherited our lands and found a hasty marriage for my sister. For me, a woman with no station, no inheritance, nothing to bring into a marriage, he found a affluent land lord to take me as a chambermaid.

My master was a flamboyant and sociable man. He treated his servants well so long as we performed our duties with the utmost care. I was able to breathe easy knowing that I would have food in my belly, a roof over my head and no switch upon my back so long as I behaved myself proper.

It was because of my master's lurid tastes that my life was shaped for the third and final time. Because he was such a sociable man, he often held events and parties and I would service these alongside the many other retainers of the house. At one such party, a foreigner and stranger to our small town, appeared and made such a show of his wealth, worldliness and physical beauty that he became quite the bell of the ball.

"Miss, would you mind bringing me a glass of that?" This stranger asked me in the most succulent voice I never could have imagined.

I couldn't fathom any words lovely enough to form a response and so I tilted into an ungainly curtsy before scurrying away to collect a glass for the man's wine. When I returned to search him out, he had abandoned his post in the center of all conversation to retreat to the portico. I followed his figure into the damp night air.

"This country has such wonderful views." He said by way of greeting as I approached.  
I found something of my voice and croaked, "Yes, sir. It is even better by daylight."  
He laughed; such a terribly charming sound. "Yes, so I've heard." He stared at me and for a moment I wondered if his dark eyes could swallow me whole. "What is your name?"

I gawked, speechless once again, and fumbled for any sort of reason such a well-to-do and fascinating man might have interest in me. The man stared at me all the while, still as a statue and as fearsome as a wolf. In the moonlight we stood and he smirked a wicked smirk.

"Forgive me, it isn't proper, is it? A man should introduce himself before asking the name of another." He cooed sweetly, forgiving my discourtesy. With a click of his cane on the rough stone floor and a deep bow, he proclaimed the name I had heard repeated throughout the hall throughout the night. "I am Guiomar Azarola."  
I made sure not to insult him with hesitation. "Lorna O'Rinn, sir."  
"Ah." He said with a distinct note of recognition. "From Ireland."  
"My father's people were, but I've never left England." I explained quickly.

After a moment of quiet I considered leaving this eccentric visitor to attend the other guests, but I truly did not want to lose the feeling he gave me. I wanted to indulge myself in this man, this dreamlike creature. When he smiled at me and told me that I was as lovely as the land of my ancestors, I lost any will, any hope of returning to my life serving and prostrating myself beneath others. The two of us left behind my carafe of wine and his untouched glass behind to walk down the winding dirt roads into the scant woods around my master's estate.

As we sauntered deeper into the night, my companion spun tantalizing tales about his travels and I listened with eager, spellbound ears.

"Well, my dear, I must say you have been the most darling measure of my stay here. I hardly wish for this evening to end." Guiomar said.  
I blushed. "Thank you, sir, but I should think you'd have much better enjoyed the company of those closer to your station."

He leaned in close to me and I wasn't sure when he had left my side to stand in front of me. I stood stock still as Guiomar traced his fingers across the line of my cheekbone. My scrambled thoughts reached out for anything real and circled the coldness in his touch. I hadn't thought it was so bitter, but we were out in the midst of autumn.

Guiomar's lips slipped from their perfect curve of a smile to silhouette the first words lost on me since our meeting and the last thing I remembered before my world became entirely enveloped in pain.

At some point, I heard the barking of dogs and my scrambled mind reattached itself to a new reality as I realized that my master and his guests must have begun a hunt to conclude the festivities. I spent what felt like an eternity doused in that one night and the pain which filled me. Certainly, I was on my journey out of this world, I thought. Certainly it would end and I would be saved.

But when I opened my eyes again, having waited until long after my agony receded, I was not met with the holy gates to paradise or the fires of hell. I was lying dirtied and starving in the same woods where I had wandered with that most alluring stranger. I realized then that it was well into the afternoon and I must have been missing all of the morning. Fearing my master's wrath, I clamored to my feet, astonished at the complete lack of pain in the motion, and dashed through the trees and shrubs back to my master's house.

As soon as I reached the grounds and spotted another servant, a woman who ranked above me by the name of Rada, I called out and began rattling off my apologies. Rada stared at me with a bizarre mixture of wonderment and repulsion in her expression and did not utter a word. As I ran closer and closer to her, my head began to swim with the strength of a scent more alien and more delicious than any I had ever found before. I felt my body tensing, readying itself for something I had not even known of let alone commanded. As I came into range of Rada I found myself almost instantaneously upon her.  
The poor woman hadn't even a moment to scream.

The page that had been washing the windows nearby did, though. The older man cried out in a terrified, unintelligible voice before running away and calling for help. He screamed that there was a demon here. I hadn't any more control of myself when I leapt up from Rada's body, ran to the page, threw him into stone wall of my master's home. He fought futilely beneath my hands and then against my teeth.

In this way I killed seventeen of the servants I had worked alongside in that estate before my hunger was sated enough that I regained my senses. Finding the strength to control my own body and knowing the horror I had created, I fled from the estate and from England entirely.

* * *

**I've decided to add notes to explain certain historical references I use. I figure it might help anyone who is interested in knowing, but hasn't heard of them as well as clearing things up for an history buffs.**

**The plague mentioned here is the Great Plague which swept through London in 1665 and was one of the final appearances of the bubonic plague.  
Miles were first used by the Romans (who brought the measurement to England when they invaded), but have referred to a multitude of actual lengths. Even today the mile used in certain parts of rural Ireland is over 6,700 feet compared to the usual 5,280.**


	2. Escape

**I want to note before this goes on that I never intend to upset anyone with my writing and I hope no one takes anything written here the wrong way. Remember, this is all fiction and it doesn't reflect anything in the real world.**

* * *

Guiomar Azarola, I curse the name.

Too late did I find that the man was a devil sent to me from hell. Never before he finished with me had I ever wished so badly for the demise of another being. I wanted to see him returned to the netherworld in a blaze fire and agony for the scourge he placed upon me. My entire being was wrought with this fury and with the grapple of it and the part of me which still believed that God might save the creature I had become.

When I left my master's manor, I was drenched in blood spilt from the victims of my crimes. I had been forced to steal a frock from the laundry of some poor woman and abandon my own ruined dress in the woods. So quickly that it hardly seemed real, I was abandoning everything I'd ever known, stealing away onto a merchant ship headed for France and hoping only that I could find some manner to redeem myself for the many sins I had committed since the damnable Guiomar had bewitched me.

Perhaps it was the sheer number of my victims that constrained the initial hunger I had suffered so it did not return to me while aboard that ship. Not caring where I went so long as I left England, I nestled myself into a dark cupboard of the cargo deck and quietly hid away until we reached port. Then the trouble revealed itself; sneaking onto a ship was an entirely different matter than sneaking off of a ship.

On my way I passed silently through the cargo hold before any of the crew came to unload, but the moment I stepped onto the deck and into the brisk evening air I felt twenty pairs of eyes settle upon me. One man hollered in gruff French as two stepped closer in obvious meaning to apprehend me. This was something I could not allow and as they moved in, I utilized my newfound agility to pick up my skirts and dash around their steps. I made straight for the dock and never looked back.

Whatever Guiomar had done to me after my cognizance faltered that night, he had bestowed me with features far beyond anything I had been graced with at birth. When I observed my skin, paler than before, in sunlight, I saw how it shone so unnaturally. I could feel how powerful the muscles beneath had grown. I knew from experience that this transformation had given me the hunting instincts of a beast. And most bizarre of all, I had seen my reflection in water I gathered from a stream, but it was not at all the face I knew.

The hollowed cheeks were fuller and more distinguished. The dry, tired skin was as radiant as everywhere else. The lips were not chapped or withered, but round and swollen with a particular beauty I had never possessed. The ears which could find even the slightest of sounds and recognize them. Glowing from the center of this storm of newness, a pair of sharp red eyes, eyes that could see things no human could see, peered out from heavy lashes like my dull green orbs never could. It was difficult to accept these features as my own. I longed for the familiarity of my own appearance and wasted many hours staring into pools of water, willing the girl I knew as myself to reappear.

When I came across a parish that appeared to be Protestant, I slipped in to the center of town as dusk began to settle, to the church as best hidden as I could manage. Such as small town left their church to its reverend's devices save for services and so I found it empty. At a glance, even the reverend was missing. I wondered if the Lord, himself might have been missing from that church house.

Kneeling to pray and putting all of strength into a plea to the heavens, I didn't notice the man who entered behind me until he spoke. "Comment puis-je vous aider, mademoiselle?" I turned to find the kindliest old man I could remember having ever met wearing a minister's robes; though my memories seemed to be less than stable as of late. He strode past the rows of pews to where I now stood and gave me a gentle smile to urge profession. I asked if he spoke English and he repeated his question so I could understand.

"Sir, I find myself in the most troubling times. I fear God may forsake me." I explained through a trembling voice.  
"Nonsense, child." The reverend clucked, laying a comforting hand upon my shoulder. "God loves his children and I am certain there could be nothing a sweet thing such as you might do that would ruin his affection for you."  
His voice rolled out as a sickly sweet miasma at the end of his assurance. My skin prickled against it, but I continued. "It isn't what I've done, but a curse bestowed on me. A stranger came to me and has corrupted my body with his evil. He was an agent of the Devil, I am sure of it."

I watched as the reverend, as though charged by my words, took on a change. Where my skin had prickled, it then burned, furiously cautioning for a retreat. The reverend stroked me with the hand which had cupped my shoulder and he inched closer to my person. "To have allowed a man, stranger to you, to have corrupted your body, you are at fault. You will have to repent." His sweet voice quietly crooned.  
My every instinct told me to leave, to run and continue my travels as though I had never met with that place. But I felt I had to know if there was some way for me to make peace with God. "Tell me, please, what must I do?"  
"Come." The old man smiled, gesturing to a little door at the side of the church which almost certainly led to his offices with one hand while the other still held me. "Let us discuss this in private."

"Is this not private enough? The parishioners will not be returning for the evening, will they?" I asked.  
"Ah, no, but I would not wish for the wrong ears to hear of our talk and sully your name." He chimed, though I was only a visitor to this parish and I had not even given him my name. I followed him to the door and stood still, contemplating my next move as he unfastened the lock. He ushered me in and no sooner had I past the threshold did his hands enclose my waist and his body press to my back. "We shall have to purge this stranger's evil from you, won't we, my sweet?" He whispered into my ear, his fingers flexing against the fabric of my dress.

In a moment, every thought I had laid themselves out into orderly lines and secured themselves into place. This man could not help me. This man made a mockery of the church. I needed to escape this man. And from there, my body took charge. I gripped one of his wrists a spun quickly around so I faced him, twisting my capture. As he bent in pain, I forced my knee up and into his gut, stepped around him and shoved his whole body to the floor. Free of the reverends clutches, I hurried from the office and from the church.

Behind me, I heard that too sweet voice crying out into the sunset, "C'est une sorcière! Une sorcière! Ne la laissez pas s'échapper!" By the time any of the parishioners understood what the old man was meaning, I was far away and not about to stop.

Unable to bear the thought of any more harm to either myself or others, I avoided any interaction with humans at all. Trekking through the wilderness I found that animal blood would sufficiently sate my thirst. I fed on the creatures of the forest, birds, deer and foxes, boar, rodents and goats. This way, I made it into the Graian Alps, to a tiny village at the base of Pointe de la Galise where I settled for a time. I made my home far from the hub of the humans and avoided interactions at near any cost, thankful that I could not speak their language. For seven years I lived there in solitary contentment before fate found me.

* * *

**Nothing was particularly relevent to history this time, but I thought I might spare some trouble for anyone who was about to Google the French dialogue.**

**Can I help you, miss?  
She's a witch! A witch! Don't let her escape!**


	3. Years 1 - 7

**Sorry if this chapter rambles on a bit. I was having some trouble putting down exactly what I wanted to say. In the end, I think I still didn't get it quite right; close, but not what I really wanted. Hope it's still enjoyable.**

* * *

Having come of age on a farm, I hadn't been entirely hapless in hunting to begin with, but living in the mountains brought out the predator in me. I learned to identify tracks to an extent and could even roughly determine how large an animal was from its trail alone. I knew to stay downwind and when it was better to follow my prey on the ground or in the trees.

And as a vampire, I learned which animals' blood tasted better than others. As a rule, herbivores were edible at best; they tasted bitter and gamey. Perhaps it all came down to the euphemism, _you are what you eat_, but I much preferred that taste of carnivores. I would hunt anything that ate I would hunt anything that ate meat and crossed my path so long as it meant an interruption in my typical diet of stambecco and red deer. And so it was a rare treat when I spotted a wildcat stalking my usual grounds. I savored the opportunity for a real hunt, as the deer and goats could only draw out a struggle so far. Keeping the high ground on rock ledges and hiding myself behind heaps of snow, I followed the cat as it prowled around a treeline near a herd of stambecco.

Observing closely, I could almost imagine that I shared thoughts with the beast. We both attended our desired prey patiently, wary of our timing, wary of the surroundings, wary of the inevitable chase. I arched my back and pulled into a low crouch, preparing to launch myself at the cat, but I never made it.

Just as I was ready for my attack, I was drawn away wholly by a single word. "Ciao."

No, the word was not anything particularly exceptional, itself, but this one word was the first spoken to me in half a year. Not since a brave villager signed and fumbled about in order to explain to me that the fur shawl I had crafted was made from stambecco and not just 'goat', had anyone tried to communicate with me.

When I spun away from my target to face the intruder, I felt the first of many shocks. This one was due to her spectacular beauty. She was a tall woman with strong features and an endearing smile. The next shock was a revelation. The dark-haired paragon who stared down to me with tell-tale red eyes was most unquestionably a vampire.

"E 'questo il vostro territorio?" She asked in a rich, amiable voice.  
I shook my head, dumbfounded. "I'm sorry…I don't understand."  
"English!" The woman exclaimed delightedly. "You are English."  
"You speak it?" I asked as I cautiously rose to my feet. The two of us stood off against one another and this other woman exhibited no fear or even restraint. "Well enough. Is this your land? Have you been here long? What are you doing out here? What is an Englishwoman doing in Italy?" She spoke so quickly that the questions she rattled off and many of her words flowed out like a river. I hesitated to answer for fear of a flood.  
"This side of the mountain is France, I think. None of it is mine. I just live here. There is nowhere else." I told her, choosing carefully which questions I answered.

She put up the same amicable smile she had from the start, but my answer must have struck a chord with her as something in her demeanor changed then. She introduced herself as Katherine Eligio, with an air I recognized as that of someone raised on wealth. I introduced myself in turn and Katherine continued to awe me with her conversational abilities.

She told me that she came her from Torino, that she had been heading toward Geneva but Aosta Valley had received poor weather and was impassable. I hadn't any idea where these places were, but I expressed my sympathies all the same. She regaled me with further tales of her adventures. I watched her carefully as she chattered on about her travels and various hardships she had encountered. This was a vampire.

So many years having passed since I was spoiled, I had come to accept the fact that I was one as well, but I still tried to cling to my humanity and my faith in God. I refused to think of myself as the same as the demon who made me the way I'd become. The same as this woman who stood before me, elegant and pristine after having tramped over mountain passes alone for who knew how long. I gathered myself and silently edged away from her.  
The risk of her evil exposing itself was simply too high.

"Ah, I was just about to ask if you had a refuge somewhere." Katherine chimed at my motion. I considered my options. She obviously did not intend to leave me in peace now and there was no way to know whether or not I'd be able to outrun her if I chose to flee. I wasn't sure I could best her in a fight, either.  
Resigning myself to accept her as a guest and hoping it would only be a short visit, I nodded and led her back to the shanty I had built for myself.

"Well, Lorna, can I ask how long you've been here?" She asked again when we were inside.  
I sighed and again resigned to her will. "About seven years. I came after I became…I couldn't stay where I was."  
Katherine hummed in accordance, a certain pity in the way she looked at me. "Yes, that first year is so difficult. Try not to feel chastened; it's common for many to cause enough trouble as newborns that they have to flee." She told me and then threw an unpleasant glance about the single room of my shelter. "Though I can't say I understand why you'd come here."  
"I just wanted to be far from England. Far from people, too."

For a long moment we sat in a silence which was not entirely uncomfortable before Katherine took up her babbling once again. She asked if I had heard of 'the fire', when I expressed no knowledge of the subject she explained that an enormous fire had engulfed my homeland. In her words, it was a "shocking tragedy".  
I wondered if my master's manor had burned.  
I wondered if the fire might have spread far enough to destroy the farm my brother procured through my parents' deaths.

For a fortnight Katherine stayed with me. Each day she would ramble through stories of great exploits she had gone on and she would rebuke the actions of one affluent person or the next. Sometimes she would even tell me useful things. Through her I learned that vampires inject a venom into their victims, much like snakes. She explained that this venom makes it so that any human bitten by a vampire, and not killed in the attack, is bound to become a vampire themselves. Later she told me that the improvement upon my senses and physical abilities were no accident. She said that most everything about a person is enhanced when they are made into vampires and that this often means even more than the abilities I had become adjusted to in the last few years. She never elaborated upon this point, even when my curiosity peaked and I asked.

When I went out to hunt, she followed me. She was a shadow to me in those weeks and seemed resolute on following my every move. She noted that I was the first she'd ever seen to feed on animals, but that she hadn't been outside of Italy since her change. Together we pondered the idea that my diet might have had an effect on the golden color my eyes had adopted as Katherine said this was one more trait she had never seen in a vampire before me.

I convinced her to try feeding on my wildcat with me. The poor creature did not stand a hare's chance against Katherine and I, both, and I quickly became thankful for my good sense not to fight her when we first met.

At the end of the two weeks, Katherine announced her leaving. She told me that she had thought to look into an old friend's affairs in Geneva – though, she also told that this friend was long since dead. I told her that I might miss her company and oddly this was true. She rambled on incessantly and seemed to live in an entirely different world from mine, but I hadn't had any company at all for so long and Katherine seemed genuinely to enjoy being in my presence. That was something to value.

"Then come with me." She exclaimed, an ear to ear grin stretching her face.  
I stared at her, silently dumbfounded.  
"I mean it, Lorna!" She took my hands to compel me. "I detest the idea of leaving you here to live out eternity alone. I want you to come with me to Geneva. No one there will know of what happened in your past and you'll surely have much more control on yourself than you did as a newborn. Come along with me." Her eyes looked so sincere as she stared at me, so terribly convincing. I felt for a moment that Katherine might've worked whole empires to that indomitable will of hers had she been born a man. There wasn't any other choice than to follow my strange companion out of my mountainous penitentiary and into a new life.

* * *

**'The Fire' - The Great Fire of London: a huge fire which burned a large portion of medieval London during the three days it lasted.**

**Stambecco - the Italian word for Ibex: a type of mountain goat native to Europe.**

**'wild cat' - Lorna is not familiar with this animal and so this is the best name she can place on it, but it is a Eurasian Lynx: the largest of the four kinds of lynx and the only one found near the Graian Alps.**

**E 'questo il vostro territorio? - Is this territory yours?**


	4. Years 8 - 18

In Geneva, we settled into a house which had been abandoned at some point since Katherine's last visit to her supposed friend, the former owner. The luxury of the gutshaus hadn't been a surprise. I had already come to the conclusion that my companion was of much higher standing than my own. So, I found that she fit well into the stately home, still lovely despite its lack of furnishings. Katherine explained that the furniture had likely been moved away by the family of her late friend a very long time ago; it was as good an explanation as any for the emptiness of the dusty old house.

It had taken us roughly a week to reach the city as Katherine insisted on taking her time to choose exactly the right victim when the thirst took her. "I try my best to not harm any of the good children of God. The Lord will forgive me for my doings, the same as He would forgive a human for consuming the body of a deer or a cow. But I am certain that He would prefer I do not take the lives of His true devotees." She told me when I complained on her determination.

"I spent my life doing the work of God. I obeyed Him and served Him. I fed, clothed, healed and eased His people. He spoke to me and so I was certain, after my sire remade me, that this too was God's doing." She told me, her eyes glittering with promise, as we stalked her prospective prey that night. When I recalled our earlier hunt that week, it seemed true that Katherine hunted only wicked men. Perhaps, she had found it her duty to rid the world of sinful persons, or perhaps she had taken the effort upon herself as penance. "We are yet still God's creatures, my friend."

I soon discovered that Katherine had not left her decadence in Italy, as she revealed she had sent a sum, impossibly large in my understanding, ahead of her to our new home. She spoiled the both of us in a surge of clothing and fixtures and litters and coaches. Katherine gifted me with gowns and trinkets so fine I could never have imagined myself in them by my own imaginings. She brought me along to galleries and parties and we wandered about the city, keeping track of the ways and doings of the humans. We made did our best to avoid notoriety, though this was made difficult by our appearances and the occasional rumors which would arise when someone of importance would discover that we, two single women, lived entirely alone.

Soon, I learned just what it meant to be a vampire. I learned just how different I had really become because after those seven years in the Alps, and five, ten, twelve years in Geneva, neither Katherine nor I aged a single day. I never knew quite how old I was and so I wasn't sure what age my body seemed to have fixed to, but it seemed that I would be forever a young woman, beautified by the workings of my vampirism. I was still so very young. I wasn't sure exactly how I felt in this static hereafter.  
To be untouched by the ages as they passed by fruitlessly could so simply be a curse.

"Lorna!" Katherine hollered as she ran, a flurry, through our house to find me. This way of greeting was nothing out of the ordinary for my friend and so I quietly called back, "I'm here." And she found me where I was curled upon the rug, practicing my letters.  
"You would study at such a time?" Katherine sighed and fell lightly beside me.  
I smiled. "If I don't study well I won't ever make progress." I told her. I practiced often even so long after my friend had first begun my tutelage.  
"I've told you before that you've already learned your letters well enough. You can read plenty." She chimed back to me and stole away my parchment. I turned to her, bothered, and she told me her reason for disturbing my studies. "Listen, I have heard the most tremendous news. It isn't good, but it is so much more remarkable than any we have heard here afore."

Then she went on to tell me that she suspected a war might come about at any time. There had been what Katherine referred to as yet another attack on the city of Vienna and it was now under siege. The neighboring empire had been determined to conquer the Habsburg's lands for centuries and she felt certain that they were out to destroy the dynasty entirely now. To her, this idea held some terrible fascination. Katherine felt that, seeing as we were so near to the city, already, the pair of us should travel to Vienna and set right the troubled souls there.

I gave her an indistinct reply and from there my friend set about to vacate the home we had made for ourselves, trek out to the far reaches of Lower Austria and proclaim God's will for peace to warmongers and Muslims. I remembered that Katherine had once told me God spoke to her. I had no reason to disbelieve her, but something in me hadn't been able to embrace her philosophies. I didn't understand how God could ever love creatures like us; there is no love for demons.

Uncertain in any way to detail my concerns to my companion, I followed her about as she continued her preparations. One day, as we left a consultation with Katherine's financier, our plans were suddenly met with a surprising and admittedly jarring obstruction. I met another vampire.

* * *

**Gutshaus: German for mansion**

**Battle of Vienna: a battle between the Holy Roman Empire with the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth and the Ottoman Empire which lasted two days. This mentioning is about the three month siege of Vienna which led up to the battle itself.**

**'neighboring empire': in the 17th century, Austria was a part of the Holy Roman Empire, which encompassed the majority of modern Europe. To the southeast - and always threatening to encroach further inward - was the Ottoman Empire of modern Turkey.**

**SPECIAL NOTE: Katherine is actually based on woman of a certain fame. In my rendering, though, she changed her name a bit so that her human life would not follow her throughout her life as a vampire and I changed some facts about her life so that she better fit the story. If you know who she is tell me and win a prize! (That's a lie...there is no prize, but I'd still love to here who you all think she might be.)**


	5. Encounters

We were ambushed. I realized this fact only after the incident and far too late to be of any help, but it is none the less true.

When Katherine and I left a meeting with her bookkeeper and found our coachman delayed a ways down the thoroughfare, we had little choice but to wait under the bank's gable. My companion rummaged about in her pocketbook and grumbled over all that had been said in our consultation to pass the time. The finicky old man, as Katherine called him, seemed keen on delaying our departure. Katherine was certain that he only thought we were hapless women who couldn't possibly journey so far unescorted. I felt that the more likely reason was his reluctance to loss her account so soon. We could only remain customers of one group for so long, after all.

I kept an eye on the lane, watching for our hired coach to appear, and if I had not been so vigilant we would have been taken completely by surprise. Sauntering along toward Katherine's bank and toward our pair, came a tall, stoic gentleman whose skin betrayed his true nature as it shimmered under the midmorning sun. My body tensed in apprehension for I knew that it was unlikely that this stranger was so kind and good as Katherine. I knew that he would much more likely be as charming and as treacherous as my disgraceful maker.

I spun back to my friend. "We should take our leave." I told her hastily.  
She seemed surprised and curious at my sudden outburst. "But it will only be a bit longer till the coach…"  
"Please, Katherine. Let's go. We can go meet the coach." I insisted, throwing quick glances over my shoulder and back to the ever approaching man. "It has become dangerous here."

My companion seemed to not sense any of the unease which filled me and instead felt only the urging of curiosity. She touched my shoulder and eased her way around my obtrusive figure, taking in the view that had me so restless. I watched her face as her eyes fell upon the glinting form nearing our setting, as a softness, a blind awe, settled into her features, as she smiled to herself a seemingly forgot that I was there beside her at all.

When she pulled her gaze away and turned to me once again, it was only a farce. Her nimble fingers dug a handkerchief from her bag as she pretended to be absorbed in something I wasn't saying. Once the man romped up the steps of the building and was about to pass us by, Katherine dropped the cloth where he might see it. As expected, he bent to pick it up and handed it back to my friend with a flourish and a smirk. "Entschuldigen sie mich, gnädige Frau, aber das deins?"  
Katherine flashed him the same indulgent smile I had spotted before and the two locked eyes for a slow, distant moment. I snatched the kerchief away from the stranger, glaring daggers. "Thank you, sir." I grunted roughly.  
My friend shot me an appalled look and the stranger let out an odd laugh.

"Have I offended you?" He asked me in a humble drawl.  
"No, but my friend and I are in something of a hurry, so, you must excuse us." I replied as cordially as I could manage.  
"Lorna!" Katherine hissed reluctantly.  
The man chuckled again. "What is there ever to hurry over when you have all of eternity?"

He sealed some sort of fate as he acknowledged our nature. I could not escape him and I could not pry Katherine away from him. No matter how nervous it made me to meet yet another strange vampire, or what darkness I saw shining through the illusory cracks and dents which littered his façade, fortune was intent to bind him to us.

He introduced himself as Luther Nigel, a Scottish born vampire who lived in a town called Füssen, come to Geneva on business. Katherine announced first herself, and then me, despite my fervent glowering. In the end, I could not stop my outgoing friend from inviting the suspicious Luther to afternoon tea. Of course, there would be no tea and, of course, this appeared to be the same as inviting the Satan, himself. I would have abandoned the senseless fool to whatever doom she had brought upon herself if I did not care for her half so much. The sun inched across the sky and the day and brought our appointment ever closer, I thought I could almost feel my stilled heart thudding in my throat. I paced around the house from room to room, following my instincts to keep from walking into things for I saw nothing but a whirlwind of worry. The eventual knock at the door had Katherine leaping from her seat while I simply leapt from my skin.

She led Luther and another male vampire through the foyer so that we could receive them. They each bowed shortly in greeting and the younger Luther started, "Allow me to introduce my brother, Tobias. I thought our get-together might be better for more company."  
Katherine fawned over his thoughtfulness and greeted Tobias graciously. I had never seen Katherine so flustered; not even when the haughtiest, most amatory men whispered their longings to her. I had hardly thought Luther, one man, vampire or not, would shake her. If a creature such as us could color, she would have been as red as a spring rose. "It's always such a pleasure to meet with others of our kind. The two of you are the first I have met since I left Italy and took up with Lorna."  
The soft-spoken Tobias arched his brow, "You do not keep with contacts in Italy?"  
"N-no. I'm afraid I didn't have many associates of our kind in my homeland and I did not leave those I possessed on the best terms."

This topic was something of a soft spot on Katherine's heart. In all of the years we stayed together, we had never discussed her past much. She did not enjoy thinking back on either her history as a vampire, those nearly three-hundred years she had spent in Italy with her maker, or the thirty-three years she had lived prior to her change. Whatever her reasoning, I would respect her privacy.

"Is it strange to not be well acquainted with many vampires? I, myself, have only known Katherine." I questioned in defense of my friend.  
Luther eyed me in amusement and challenged my claim, "Ah, what about your maker?"  
"I did not know him, but the bite he gave me."  
He grinned. "That won't do." He said and shared a quick, nearly imperceptible nod with his brother before glancing back to me. Inevitably, his gaze lingered, as it seemed to have since they first met, on Katherine. "We could not let two good ladies as you go on knowing only debauched makers. You said you were planning to make way for Austria; avoid all of that danger and come along with us to Füssen."

* * *

**There isn't much I can note for this one, but I think it should be pointed out that it was illegal for peasants such as Lorna and (as far as Lorna's understanding of him goes) Luther to travel. They were seen as belonging to whoever owned the land they were born on and could be killed for leaving. Good thing they're immortal, I guess.**

**Entschuldigen sie mich, gnädige Frau, aber das deins? - Excuse me, Ma'am, but is this yours?  
A lady would drop her handkerchief near a man as a way to engage his attention. In these times and for quite a while after, this was one of the few ways for a woman to approach a man in a social setting that were seen as appropriate.**

**The next one will be big! There will be a very important turning point in the story, so I hope everyone reading is as excited to find out as I am to reveal it.**


	6. House of the Jackal

Katherine strolled across the muck laden grove her company had chosen as a rest area, her arm appreciatively looped around Luther's own. The two had chosen to break off and take a walk alone together while their fellows busied themselves elsewise. This could not have made Katherine gladder. Ever since their meeting, a happy accident, she had felt such a swelling of longing towards this man that she worried her chest might burst with it. She had spent the time since memorizing and appreciating all of his most endearing traits; from his unkempt, gilded head to his casual gait.

If it were not for the strings of her heart tugging upon the lonesome figure of her friend, seated on a felled tree in the shade far from her, Katherine might have been entirely engulfed in her bliss.

"What's troubling you, Miss Katherine?" Luther asked in his sweet Scottish burr.  
Katherine took one more sidelong glance at Lorna, then turned her attention back to her escort. "I'm afraid Lorna may be very upset with me." She sighed. It really had never been her intention to trouble the girl.  
Luther peeked over Katherine's head to take in the scene and nodded. He didn't want to further sadden his companion, but the other woman had such a desolate expression, it was hard to deny the claim. "It does look that way. But perhaps she is only feeling homesick."  
"No, I am sure of it." Katherine told him explicitly. "She did not want to go to Vienna when that was our plan and she does not want to be on this jaunt to Füssen. I don't mean to force her, but it is so difficult to linger in one city for long."

Thereafter they continued their stroll around the wood in quiet and as they neared their other associates, they could see that the two had delved into an engaging discussion. Tobias' voice rang out softly through the trees, "Then the two of will join our coven."  
Oddly, this statement seemed to be some strange prompt for Luther. The younger brother picked up speed and his relaxed step became a harried rush. He did not loosen his hold on Katherine's arm and so she was drug behind him. "Toby," Luther called in a bizarre tone which was both friendly and menacing, as they reached the others. "Would you mind leaving the ladies for a moment to speak with me in private?"

Tobias registered his brother's sudden ire, eyed first Lorna where she still sat, then to a confused Katherine, and retorted calmly. "It would be terribly rude to abandon them in such a way. And I'm afraid I was in the midst of a conversation." He stood his ground and stared the taller, harsher man down as if he were nothing but a speck of dirt upon the sole of his shoe. This was not the first time someone attempted to intimidate Tobias', nor was Luther the most fearsome opponent he'd ever faced.  
"You _are_ interrupting, sir." Lorna suddenly chimed. When the three others turned to gaze down at the young woman, they were met with a dark glare. "And you so rudely hauled Katherine after you. I would bid you to be more cautious."

Slowly, Luther leaned away from the girl and his brother and regained his composure. He muttered an apology to the two, bowed quickly to the girl still clutching his elbow and marched away on his own. Katherine stared after him, dumbfounded. She was not sure what had happened to her near flawless bliss, but suddenly it was gone and she was staring at a state of affairs lacking in any fairness or whimsy. It did not seem to make the slightest sense.

After a three day journey, six days total since our company started northeast from Geneva, we finally set eyes upon the meandering waters of the river Lech. Tobias led the group to a crossing and it was not long before he was showing us to the courtyard of a robust home which I might have easily taken for a local fort were it not for the brothers' commentary.

"This has been our home for two centuries, now. When we first arrived, this place was hardly more than a single farm." Luther chuckled.  
Tobias paused in his guiding and cleared his throat. "Before we go any further, I must admit that we have not been entirely honest with you. We did not exactly say that we are alone together, but we may have led you to believe it so." He explained in a hushed, sheepish voice. "The truth would be that we live together with Luther's dam, our adoptive mother. She is waiting for us inside and I did not wish for you to be surprised when you meet her."

I asked that the gentlemen leave me and Katherine to discuss this deception in private and they retreated to a polite distance. I felt an upsurge of my desire to abandon this voyage and I finally felt some glimmer of hope that Katherine might sense the danger which could be lurking only a few steps away. When I asked her, Katherine seemed reluctant to accept the idea that they deceived us; preferring to call their underhandedness a mere misrepresentation. She suggested that we only meet this woman and decide to stay or leave afterward. I sighed in recognition and together, as we had remained for near twenty years, the two of us rejoined our hosts and marched through grand double doors and into their home as though we had come to conquer it.

Inside we were met with a warmly lit foyer and a wide flight of stairs guarded on either side by gilded statues of seated jackals. Behind us, the heavy doors swung back on their hinges and shut with a thud. Luther called out of their return while Tobias led us further into the house to a modest sitting room with a large set of painted glass windows, the beauty of which was certainly the envy of any local church. I took a seat in a chair beside my friend and the men stood and waited for the lady of the house to make her appearance. After only a moment, the sound of shoes clicking on the wooden floors approached and in walked the distinguished figure of an older woman with silvery blonde hair in delicate, ornamented plaits. Her resigned gaze and tempered posture spoke of a refined lady and I could see where the two brothers, Tobias at the least, might have learned such proper manners.

The lady greeted us with a low curtsy and a slight smile and spoke words I could not understand for the life of me. I turned to Katherine who appeared just as flummoxed and then to our escorts. Luther smiled graciously and exchanged some words with his mother in this foreign tongue before he translated for us. "Ida wishes to welcome you both to our home. She says that we will take it as our duty to ensure you have a pleasant stay here."  
"Please, tell her 'thank you' and I do apologize for our ignorance of her language." Katherine replied.  
After he relayed the sentiment, Luther told us that the lady, Ida Fritjof, was well versed in Latin and would be able to converse with Katherine, at least. I quietly envied my friend's prosperous upbringing and even her religion. Everything she did seemed to bring her good fortune and adventure.

Lady Ida led us through the house to a pair of unoccupied rooms where we might find any desired solitude. Katherine thanked her and asked where the local Justice of the Peace might be found so that we could collect our effects when they arrived from Geneva. We made plans to check there in a few days, though my friend was keen on purchasing another dress to hold herself over during the wait. She and Ida discussed the nearby shops and I was filled in on the conversation every couple of minutes. Somehow their topic shifted into Katherine's history and the lady managed to extract something no one else could; the name of my friend's maker.

Ezio. It seemed this was the only name the man had given her. Ida didn't appear to be any more familiar with anyone by such a name than I was. Katherine detailed that she thought he was probably changed in the first half of the 14th century and therefore, only a little older than she, herself. Lady Ida chuckled at my companion's 'youth' before she asked about me. Katherine translated for me as I told the older woman that I had only been turned a couple of decades earlier. When I mentioned my maker's name, I received the most bizarre reaction. Ida's hand flicked out, quick as a spider, and she grasped my wrist. We stared at one another for a moment before she spoke and Katherine interpreted. "If you are the work of Guiomar, you are kin to me. It's unfortunate that you could not have brought that man here, but we will have to celebrate none the less. It has been quite some time since I last met anyone of the London coven."

* * *

**There aren't any real notes to give for this one, except that a Justice of the Peace was very much like a sheriff, so instead I'd just like to ask for anyone's comments, questions or concerns. I'd love to hear some feedback.**


	7. Riddles Wrapped in Enigmas

"Was he much like her?" Katherine asked me, the moonlight bright enough here to shimmer softly against her skin.  
"Not in appearance." I grunted roughly. I had only wanted to focus on my hunt, but Katherine insisted on taking a walk with me. She cited the fact that it had been quite a while since we were last alone together. "He left me before I could learn much more than that."

I picked up the scent of a scent of a nearby sounder and followed along their trail, careful and quiet. I had never hunted boar before and my mind swarmed with anticipation for the fight as my mouth swarmed equally with venom. I had never known the side of myself which appeared when I hunted before my turning. As a human, I was not one for confrontation and even as a vampire, I only seemed to hunger for it when on the hunt.

"He didn't say anything? Nothing at all about his coven?" Katherine continued.  
I sighed. I would've already asked her to stay behind while I closed in, fearing that her noise might scare off my prey, but I knew Katherine well enough that I could recognize when her ranting was simply a spout of her anxiety. "Katherine, he spoke to me as a human. I don't really remember what all he said, but I doubt the mentioned anything about his being, as I doubt he had any intention for me to survive him." I told her, softening my original tone in hopes to dampen her discomfort.  
She was quiet again for a long moment, but I listened for the inevitable response which her manners demanded of her. When finally she spoke, her voice was hushed and tinged with another kind of distress. Katherine had slowly become fearful of our hosts, as I had been on instinct. "Yes…Yes, I'm sorry. I only hoped that there was some clue he left you that could help us.

"They have still not been honest with us." She stated and it was true. In Füssen, we had only found lies.

We stood in a densely wooded portion of the forest, far from the house, where the scent of my query was stronger and I was certain I would find my pigs trooping about only a little further ahead. Katherine followed the silent directions of my aggressive posture, she crouched low, lifting her skirts from the forest floor, and silently stepped back to give me space enough for my work. We had been through this routine many times. I crept forward and scaled a nearby tree, moving from branch to branch to enclose my game. Remembering from some faded, indistinct memory that pigs cannot look up, I angled myself directly above a fat boar. He fixed his tusks into the dirt, entirely unaware of the short time he had left to live before I slackened my grip and dropped down, my knee meeting with and snapping his back. In a flurry of squeals and clouds of dust kicked up, the rest of the sounder hurried of through the trees and the night.

I found a good artery and bit into my kill quickly, not wanting to let the animal suffer needlessly. He died beneath me as I finished my meal of him. Katherine was watching when I stood and attempted to dust the muck and blood from my dress. "That is second one you've ruined this month." She droned and I was aware that it was not really the dress which upset her.  
"It isn't ruined; it only needs to be cleaned. The other one was only torn a little and easy enough to mend. There's no harm done." I assured her.

We were silent for a long while, unmoving, as we each waited for the other to remark upon the beast looming so heavily above us. The forest did not welcome our presence. The body of the great hog seemed to grow larger and larger the longer we stayed. The trees hissed defensively and the moon's eye was hatefully bright against my friend and I. If only there was the sound of the woodland creatures, I might have imagined we had some purpose in that world, but they were silent; hiding away from the newly come terrors. I wondered if I would ever find a place to exist where my mere being would not make me despised.

Katherine's sudden question brought me from my thoughts. "Should we leave?" I considered her carefully. She seemed so horribly torn that I would have expected tears to stream down her face if she were capable of producing them. "Should we run out into the dark, now? We could go on and never look back upon this town again."  
"Are you truly able to do that?" I asked warily.  
"What do you mean? Of cour-"  
"You know what I mean." The force in my voice must've surprised her as a certain tremor flashed through her eyes. I withdrew and quieted, hoping I could ease her back into our prior frankness. "I know all about it, Katherine. I know how you feel about Luther and I believe he feels the same. I wonder if you really can walk away from something like that. Can you forget him? are so accustomed to love that you can cast him away with ease? I want you to be sure that you are prepared for the consequences of this decision."  
The older woman stared at me in a bemused stupor. She ran her fingers through a lock of her hair, smiling. "What about you, Lorna? Don't you want to leave?"  
"I wouldn't take you from your happiness…and I am happier when we are together. As much effort takes of me, you are my only friend." I laughed and took her hand to lead her back through the woods and to the manor I had tense suspicions of.

We had been living with Ida Fritjof and her coven for near four weeks and both Katherine and I had come to the conclusion that the three of them were keeping secrets from us. We were only guests and hadn't expected them to reveal their personal confidences, but this was different. Something was rather ominous about the way they wanted to keep us in Füssen, the moments we had caught them speaking in their strange language and hushed voices. There were other enigmas, too. On the second floor of the house, a study was kept regularly locked and I had only seen Lady Ida leaving it once. She had harried me off down the hall and far from the room when she noticed me. Katherine had asked Luther what was in the room and found that the man was rather bizarrely defensive in respect to the topic. He would not tell her why the room was locked or what was inside, he wouldn't even say whether he'd been inside or not.  
What was more, both the men were prone to startling mood swings which often took place when one or the other was alone with either Katherine or myself. I had to admit that it was quite a baffling and frightening riddle.

Days after our discussion in the woods, I overheard Katherine and Luther's voices growling back and forth in Latin. I felt an urge to barge into the sitting room they had been sharing and defend my companion, but a gentle hand wrapped around my shoulder and held me firm. Beside me Tobias was gazing sternly at the sitting room door and listening just as I was. He kept me from interfering and so we two stood as listeners in and waited for some end to come to the yelling. I felt like a child, hapless and confused.

"Luther seems to have forgotten decorum," Luther chided when the voices began to quiet some. "I will remind him later and see to it that he delivers a proper apology to Miss Katherine." Tobias grumbled.  
"Thank you, but I will have you both _remember_ that I was not born to propriety. I will sacrifice my manners to my instincts, should I feel a threat toward myself or my friend."  
He gave me a look as alarmed as if I had struck him across the face, then his expression shifted to be somewhat appreciative and he bowed his head close to mine, speaking softly. "I give you my personal assurance that you will be safe with us."

* * *

**It isn't too much longer until the next time leap and then the Cullens will finally make their grand appearence. I was wondering how you are all taking the story. I haven't written fanfiction before - or posted any writing online, for that matter - so I'm not sure, but it seems like 400 some odd view in less than a month is pretty good. If anyone has any comments or questions, or even better would be helpful critiques, I would love to hear them. Thank you for having read this far.**


	8. Drunkards and Demons

It would be a lie to say there was nothing about my time in Füssen which I enjoyed. I enjoyed taking walks through the less populous areas of the town on days when the sun was spirited off by the clouds and my skin did not glisten like no humans could. My strolls were occasionally dampened by lecherous rabbles, but there was never any real danger for me. Not for a vampire.

This pastime was particularly pleasant because it gave me a little time every now and then to slip away from my hosts and even my friend; they could not follow me, they did not possess my temperance to human blood. I was free of having to hold conversations stunted by a need for translations. I was free from Tobias' ever watchful gaze. I had become certain that he had been deliberately tasked with my appraisal over the past week or so, as I was sure he held no more fondness for me than I did him and yet he seemed to linger every which where I went. If I was in town, I could almost imagine I was still human.

I passed by a tailor's shop, already locked up and pitch dark inside, and I wondered if I would have wanted a job there were I human. I could have been a seamstress. I could have worked alongside Katherine with her astounding knowledge and appreciation of clothing. More likely, I would have been making dresses for her, and she would've been a woman too far out of the reach of my social standing for me to ever imagine meeting.

I wondered why it was that, though her gowns were always of high quality, Katherine never dressed herself in the same flamboyant styles she chose for me.

Up ahead, down the lane, I spotted a small tavern, full to overflowing with rowdy men and shied to the opposite side of the street. I had no fear of them…there was no man who could me harm, _now_, but it was a driving force I still felt from my human days. Men are not to be trusted. That was something I knew.

"Enjoying your stroll, Miss Lorna?" The voice was a grumble, soft as breathing, and I heard it as though it were at my ear. I spun on my heel, dropped my shoulders and fell into a defensive position. I didn't want to fight here. There were humans here and I knew only too well how frail a human's body was when under the force of a vampire's strength.  
Luckily it seemed I wouldn't have to risk it. Luther's throaty chuckle reached my ears and I spotted him, just a glimpse through the moving crowd of drunkards, seated at a table in the tavern staring into a tankard. There were two options; I could continue on and ignore his appearance, or I could go to his side and see what a vampire was doing drinking alcohol. I guess my curiosity got the better of me.  
"Luther." I nodded curtly as I pulled up a chair beside, but not near, him. "I wouldn't have thought to see you here."  
He laughed. "A lady shouldn't think about this sort of place at all, but then again…you aren't a lady, are you?"  
His fingers were wrapped possessively around his tankard's handle. He was bent over the thing and smiling at me like a fool, with hint of a challenge to his voice. "Careful, my friend. We can no longer become flushed – not even with ale. If your behavior is less than gentlemanly, I'm afraid you will have to take the full blame." I warned, doing my very best to ease my own irritation.  
He laughed again, taking such a big swig as to drain his stein. "You haven't tried it, have you?"  
"What?"  
"If you would try drinking a little, you wouldn't say such things." He explained thoughtfully. "It isn't the same, surely, but if you drink enough you can feel it in your head. It slows down some of the madness that we all get through the change. It still has the same burn…tastes like piss, though." As he told me this, he proceeded to flag down a tavern girl and order a second drink.

We sat for a long time together. Luther didn't gulp away this round as he had the first. He drank it a little at a time and when he was sipping, he stared down into the liquid as though it contained some great secret. I tried not to stare at him, but it was difficult. If I looked anywhere around our table, the lushes around us would try to make eye contact with me. That sort of thing is nothing to worry about in normal situations, but drunks were notoriously careless with their lives and I did not trust these men to know to keep their distance from me. I did not trust myself to not harm them if they disturbed me. I especially didn't trust Luther to stopper his thirst.

I watched Luther simply because he was more interesting than the top of our table. His face was all hard lines with rough edges – this wasn't the first time I had wondered whether or not the man even owned a proper razor. His skin was the same impossible white as mine and his hair was as beautiful, arrow-straight streams of dark gold. The set of his brow made a hard frame for his eyes that, when he wasn't gazing so sadly into a half empty cup, turned his stare into something sinister and dangerous. I had the feeling that he was not Germanic; he had the same look to his features as the northerners who sometimes passed through my old master's estate. Luther was not a common name here in Füssen. For that matter, neither was Tobias or Ida.

"She was a nun."  
The words had been so sudden that they made no sense in my mind. Or perhaps they simply didn't make any sense. "What was that?"  
"Katherine. She was a nun in her old life." He repeated.

This was something I had never heard. Katherine and I usually tried to shy away from the topic of our pasts. We had shared different stories with each other, spoken some about our families, and my friend had told me of her travels. I had never asked her what lifestyle she had lived because I assumed it was the typical life of a gentle lady. Her father had a very prosperous business and many of her siblings did just as well for themselves. It never occurred to me that Katherine would've ever taken up with the sisters of the Catholic Church.

"She was a chaste woman. A woman of God and I tried to corrupt her." Luther continued when I said nothing. He was so upset by this idea that I could hear the venom gathering in his mouth. "I'm disgusted with myself, but I know I'm only going to go after her again. I can't help myself when it comes to that woman. She's just…she's so…but a nun. A nun! It's hilarious, really." But he was not even laughing.  
"I will tell you this, Katherine lived with a man for nearly three-hundred years. Her sire." I watched carefully as one tension left Luther's eyes and a new one filled them. "I don't know if he was her lover. She's told me before that he was always very amused with her, that he had a twisted humor. I suppose this was what she meant. It is rather ironic to think of a nun being turned into one of Satan's agents."  
The loud clang of Luther's tankard as he slammed it against our table and turned on me brought me from my thoughts. His eyes had regained their usual resilient danger as he glared at me in a dark rage. I could feel my body tense up, bunch into itself and prepare to launch away; out of his reach if he were to make the wrong move. He spoke slowly, his voice rougher, accent heavy. "You will never speak that way of vampires again, do you understand me? If I so much as hear you mention _Satan_ I will tear you limb from limb. You're a smart child so I'm sure you will understand me. We are not the agents of evil. We aren't any different from the other fools in this room except that we can and are supposed to kill them. Good and evil, God and the Devil, they've got nothing to do with any of it.

"The world is a big place, Lorna. It's too big for small minds."

We were quiet again, then. I was not so brave or so foolish as to cock up any wit after his outburst, nor was I so good with words as to think up any good counter argument. I was surprised to hear Luther, who was usually quiet and scowling or loudly laughing, speak with such gravity and fervor. I was also surprised that he had managed it without drawing too much attention toward us.

"Lorna." He murmured and I turned and prepared myself for another speech. "What kind of name is 'Lorna'?"  
"The one my parents gave me." I barked indignantly.  
"Didn't they have any respect for their ancestors? You should have a name with meaning, one in your people's tongue." He scoffed.  
I rolled my eyes and tried to explain my point. "I don't know that language and I already have a name."  
"No. No." He said, waving off my defense. "I've already decided. Lorna is a terrible name, it makes me miserable just to hear it. I'll give you a pretty name. You can be…Carys. That's a good name for you. Carys."

Despite my arguing, Luther refused to accept the name I was christened with by my parents. He even tried to convince me that parents give unpleasant names to children they don't want. An awful thing to say. But I have to admit, it quieted my dissenting. Lorna Carys didn't sound too bad.

* * *

**There we have it! Sorry it took so long for this chapter to be posted; I've been busy planting azaleas and cutting open tauntauns. I'm having trouble moving this forward...it isn't going at the pace I had expected. But that just makes me all the more grateful for everyone who is sticking with it. I am especially thankful for everyone who has reviewed and favorited and set alerts. You guys are a great boost for my confidence!**

**A tankard is a tall mug made of cermaic or metal, sometimes having a lid, used to drink alcohol.**

**In case anyone was wondering, Luther is Pictish. That's the kingdom making up a large portion of modern day Scotland. He has a deep love for his people and that is why he wants Lorna to respect their people's common language, Gaelic (though there are different variants of Gaelic spoken in Ireland and Scotland, as well as all the other countries where it is spoken).**


End file.
